Cravings
by Chablis Jameson
Summary: Late one night, Harry sneaks off to paricipate in his latest habit. But this night is not like all the others. This night he's followed. And his secret is let out. Will Review any who review me. PG for cutting. Updated!
1. Doings

A/N: The new, improve, updated version! Read to you heart's content! Anyway, thank you a ton to those who reviewed, and thanks even more to Kelly, my awesome beta, who helped me make this not suck. Anyway, read, review. I review all who review me, and I give all reviews a special little surprise (I know how to treat my reviewers, I tell you!) Enjoy!

****

_Blood . . . there's never enough blood . . . cravings are never filled . . . never enough._

No one would understand. No one. Perfect Harry Potter, not being perfect? No one would get it. They'd make him stop. They'd take away his only pleasure. His only escape.

Harry lifted the knife slowly, and brought it down inches above, not yet ready to press it in.

_Not suicidal . . . just pain. Just release . . . not death . . . _

Hesitating slightly, Harry smiled. He hadn't always been like this. No, even just last year he was still the Perfect Harry Potter. He had his Uncle to thank for giving him this idea.

_Slowly . . . savoring . . . lasting . . . pain._

He never thought he'd be thanking his Uncle for anything. But that day, a week into the summer holidays, his normal world was shattered. A simple blow from his Uncle was too much when added to the rest. His world came crashing down, and Harry didn't care. The moment his Uncle's wedding ring struck his cheek, and the blood surfaced, Harry had the answers.

_Sliding . . . slowly . . . red blood . . . blood . . . blood._

Harry slid the knife along his arm, slowly, savoring every bit of the pain. Biting his lip gently, he ran the knife back along the path he had just sliced into the white flesh. The wound grinned at him, a friend sharing his secret, and he grinned back. Moments later the blood spilled. Dropping the knife, Harry brought his arm to his face.

_Red . . . cool, wet, metallic, glimmering . . . blood._

Harry watched as the blood ran down his arm, fascinated by the glimmering of it, the shine it held. He closed his eyes, and slowly licked the blood, taking pleasure in the taste. Here, now, he had control. Here, now, he ruled.

_Famous Harry Potter . . . in charge . . . control . . . pain._

He dealt the cards, he had the power. He was free from the life of Harry Potter, even if it was just for a moment. He was _free_.

_Escape . . . release . . . free . . . _

Harry continued to taste, and would continue to, until the blood stopped. Just like the last time. And all the other times.

_Power . . . escape . . . blood . . . no one._

Harry heard the shouts, but he didn't care. Allowing one eye to drift open, he watched the blood flowing down his arm. How cold it felt. And how beautiful it looked: in the shaft of light from the doorway the descending sheen of scarlet looked like silk against his skin. It shimmered. He was alone right now, and didn't care. The rest could wait. He bent down to pick up the knife, for one last stab at release.

_Never enough . . . no one . . . never understand . . . not death, just escape . . . no understanding . . . no pity . . . _

Harry brought the knife to his arm again, readying himself. Then it all changed- the knife that had hovered in front of him, promising, had gone. Vanished. Ripped away: Harry heard it clattering on the wooden floor, and now the reassuring darkness had given way to a harsh and unforgiving light.

Looking up, as though through a fuzzy haze, Harry squinted at the figure, swimming before his eyes. What was happening? Where was his only friend, his metal friend? Why wouldn't everything stop moving?

"Harry!"

Harry peered even harder at the swaying figure, his eyes focusing, then unfocusing.

"Have you lost your mind? What are you doing?"

Harry stumbled, and everything started to fade.

"Hermione? Is that . . ."

"Harry? Harry, what's wrong? Oh god . . . Harry! Harry, answer me! Ron, go get help! Harry! Harry, speak to me, Harry!"

Harry smiled as the world blackened and he fell to the ground, landing with a thump, no longer hearing Hermione's hysterical screams.

_Escape . . . release._


	2. Discoveries

A/N: Also new and improved. Updated, thanks to the wonderful beta, Kelly . . . umm, review, and receive a surprise. I'm almost done with the third chapter, not long now! Enjoy, and review!

****

"Where's Harry at?" Hermione said, looking up from the book she had been reading for the past hour or so.

"Practice, remember?" Ron answered, not bothering to glance up from his deck of Exploding Snap cards.

"No, he should be back now," Hermione replied, glancing around the common room, "Look, there's Fred and George . . . Katie . . . Alicia . . . Seamus . . . if they're back Harry should be too."

"Hmm," Ron looked around, "Oi! Fred, George! Where's Harry at?"

Fred looked up from where he and George were huddled together, busy casting an Insect Insertion Spell on the bowl of sugar cubes. They'd been boasting about what Snape's face would look like when he saw a live centipede swimming to the surface of his tea, but so far they hadn't managed to make the spell work despite all their attempts, "He said something about going off to the kitchens. Visiting someone, I think."

"No," Seamus said, as he flopped on a chair near Ron and Hermione, "He told me he had to go to the Astronomy tower. Saying he forgot some book up there."

Ron grinned, "Astronomy tower, eh? Wonder who she is."

"I just saw Harry," Ginny spoke up, joining the others.

Everyone immediately looked at her. "You?" Ron sputtered, "But that's . . . you're . . ." Ron trailed off.

"What? No!" Ginny blushed, "Not like that. I just meant I saw him walking down to the Entrance Hall. He was defiantly alone. Didn't even notice me saying hi."

"Well, he's bound to turn up," Seamus pointed out, "Pretty hard to lose the Boy-Who-Lived." Ginny nodded as Ron shrugged. Hermione glared at Seamus, but didn't say anything. "I'm exhausted. I'll see you three tomorrow, I'm going to bed."

" 'Night Seamus."

"Good Night." With that Seamus stood and walked up the stairs. Faintly, Hermione could hear a door slamming shut.

"I think I'll go lay down too. See you later."

"Good night Ginny."

" 'Night." And Ginny, too, headed up the stairs.

"It's getting late." Hermione said, glancing at her watch.

"Yeah," Ron replied as he started packing up his books from earlier that evening. "Harry probably just ran into Dobby and can't get away."

"It's past curfew."

"He's fine."

Hermione looked at Ron as he picked up around the table, "I'm worried Ron."

"Hermione he's probably just held up-"

"I don't mean now. I'm worried about Harry generally. Just the way he's been behaving for the last couple of months."

Ron sighed, and set down a book he had just picked up. He walked over to the chair Hermione was sitting in, and sat down on the arm rest. He stared into the fire, "Me too."

"And I don't just mean that I'm worried he'll be attacked or anything."

"I know."

Hermione closed the book she had in her hand, and looked up at Ron, "Does he . . . talk to you?"

"Not much more than the amount he talks to you."

Hermione sighed and looked at the fire. "If he doesn't let down that barrier of his - the one that doesn't allow anyone to see what he's feeling - I'm afraid he'll burst."

"I think he's afraid." Ron paused, "He has a right to be. But I think he's afraid that if he shows emotion, he'll be letting us down. To Harry, the fate of our world rest in his hand, and his alone."

Hermione looked back at Ron, a look of surprise on her face, "He really thinks that?"

"Yeah, it's tearing him apart. He holds in all his emotion . . . he has no way to release them."

"He deserves to be able to cry sometimes."

"To be angry."

"Scared."

"Yeah," Ron trailed off.

Hermione didn't know how long the two of them sat there in silence, staring into the fire. But by the time she finally looked up, out of her trance, she noticed the rest of the common room was empty.

"Ron? I really am starting to worry." Hermione voiced, pointing out the empty room.

"I - I'm sure Harry's fine. We'd know if he was hurt." But Ron didn't look quite so sure. Hermione looked over to where Ron was slightly shifting in his seat, his nerves obviously frayed.

"I don't think so Ron" Hermione replied, quietly. She stared down at her hands, mind racing. Suddenly, she had an idea. "Ron! The map!"

"The map?" Ron paused, brow furrowed, "The map! I can't believe I forgot . . . " without hesitation Ron tore up the stairs, leaving Hermione in his dust. Moments later, he returned with a crinkled piece of yellowed parchment in his hands. 

Jabbing his wand at it, slightly harder than he normally would, Ron muttered under his breath. "I solemnly swear I am up to no good.". Though Harry had never actually voiced the fact that he didn't want either of his friends knowing how to activate the map, Ron just felt it was so. Besides, Harry had never told Hermione, or him. Luckily, Ron had heard Harry whispering the password once, when he though Ron was asleep. Just in case his hunch was true, Ron tried making sure Hermione couldn't hear him as he spoke softly to the yellowed parchment.

"That's it?" Hermione broke in, "That's the password? Well it's not a rather good one, now is it?" Ron rolled his eyes.

"That's not the point Hermione. Besides, it's not like Harry made it up."

"Right then, just start looking for Harry."

Ron nodded, and set the paper down on the nearest table. Hunched over it, with Hermione doing the same right next to him, suddenly noticing how large the school really was. How were they supposed to figure out which little dot was Harry, out of all those hundreds of other dots?

After staring intently at the map for nearly ten minutes, her lower back starting to ache, Hermione almost passed over the dot. Darting her eyes back, she gave a tiny sound of excitement, and poked a finger at the spot. "Found him!" she cried, triumphantly. 

Ron leaned over, and peered down at the tiny smudge that represented Harry. "What's he doing in a broom closet?"

"How should I know? There's not really anything interesting in that closet."

Ron looked up, and gave Hermione a quizzing look. "You know what that closet looks like inside?"

Hermione nodded, folding the map up. "That's the one me and Harry were in."

"Hermione! You didn't strike me as the type." Ron exclaimed, a bit of pride in his voice. "But I thought you and Harry weren't . . . you know . . . anything but friends."

Hermione turned slowly to Ron, now wearing the same puzzled look that had just vacated his face. "Honestly Ron, grow up. I meant that's the closet me and Harry hid in when we were trying to save Sirius."

"Oh." Ron's face fell a bit, as he followed Hermione across the deserted Common room, and through the portrait hole.

****

Ten minutes later, three corridors away from Gryffindor Tower, and hiding behind a suit of armor, Ron whispered to Hermione. "We should have brought the cloak you know."

"You were the one who was up in the dorm right by it, why didn't you grab it?"

"It's not my fault. You're the brains of this outfit, why didn't you remind me?"

"Why's he in a broom closet anyway? You don't think he's hurt do you?" Hermione paused, peeked out from behind the armor, and added, "Now!" They sprinted down the hall, before rounding the corner and hiding behind a statue.

Looking up and down the corridor Ron muttered, "Well, he's not unconscious at least. I mean, the dot was moving, that's got to be a good sign."

"Ron, that doesn't - Now! - mean anything." Hermione softly said back as she slunk into the shadows. "He could have been hurt and he can't move by himself. He could be in need of medical attention, but can't move himself to seek it!"

"I highly doubt that. Her - Now! - mione." Ron said over his shoulder, dashing down the stairs and slipping behind a tapestry. "Harry's probably just - erm - just, uh . . . well, alright, I don't know why a person would be in a broom closet alone, but it can't be bad."

"Ron, you're too optimistic for your own - Now! - good." Hermione answered, darting behind a different suit of armor.

"Well, sometimes that's a good thing." 

****

"I don't hear anything."

"Me either."

"You're sure he's in there?"

"It's what the map says. And the map never lies."

"But I don't hear him."

"Doesn't mean he's not in there. Open the door."

"All right then." Slowly Hermione creaked the door open, and gave her eyes a second to adjust to the darkness. Seeing a slight movement in the far corner, she glanced that way, gazing to see what it was. She gave a sigh of relief.

"Harry! It's you! We've been looking for-" Suddenly, she found her voice catch and give way, as Hermione's mouth fell open and her breath stopped. Blinking in utter surprise, she found herself crying out. "Harry! What're you doing?"

Moments later, when Harry started to sway and fall, it was Hermione dashed across the small space in between them to stop his fall.


End file.
